My kids and I love reading dozens of library books every week. We find books we like; sometimes books we disagree with – if characters are mean-spirited, the pictures are crude, or the words are impolite; books that we feel neutral about; and if we are lucky on a particular day, we find books that have the extraordinary juxtaposition of thoughtful, beautiful writing, and endearing illustrations. These books touch our hearts, remind us of something dear in our own lives, illuminate a spark of imagination, or just make us fall in love. This list is a partial collection of what we have found on the lucky days.

All the Way to America: The Story of a Big Italian Family and a Little Shovel
written and illustrated by Dan Yaccarino
A true story of an immigrant who came to the United States from Italy bearing not much more than a shovel which is passed down through the family from generation to generation – each bearer using the shovel for completely different purposes, each generation encapsulating something of their heritage to pass down to their children. It’s a wonderful immigrant tale.

Anatole
written by Eve Titus
illustrated by Paul Galdone
Paris. Charming, anthropomorphic mice. Typewriters. Delightful illustrations. Cheese. This book has it all. An absolutely lovely, lovely classic about a mouse who becomes the premier cheese connoisseur in Paris. Anatole is featured by Eve Titus in several sequels, but of course, read this one first.

The Baby Tree
written and illustrated by Sophie Blackall
If your young child is starting to ask “Where do babies come from?” – read this book. The story about a curious boy who is waiting for a baby sibling to arrive, is a wonderful, age appropriate (around ages 5-8), introduction to human reproduction. There is also an appendix for older children which provides more specific information on the mechanics of, ahem, things.

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My impression is that happiness is a very similar thing for most people no matter their background. After we wade through the nonsense that we think makes us happy – the stuff that we are tirelessly working for that just clutters our lives, I think most people come to a pretty similar conclusion. We want peace. We want to be with the people we love. We want everyone to be healthy and happy. It’s relatively simple. – Excerpt from Mortality Check and the Realization of Happiness

My guest for this interview is not sitting in the same room with me while I ask him about his thoughts on his life and the room for happiness therein. He is not sitting quietly at his computer sipping a cup of tea as he leisurely answers my questions. His situation is the antithesis. The replies to my questions are coming through a contraband telephone. He is incarcerated for the third time in his forty-two years. For various crimes, he has spent more than a third of his life in prison. A bit over two years remain on his latest sentence.

Simplicity Sprouts: Tell me about your surroundings. Do you have windows?
Guest: My time is spent in a 10×4 meter (approximately 32×14 ft) room with forty other men. The room is filled with bunks. There is about 50 cm (20 in) of space between the beds. That’s our walkway. I have access to windows for most of the days. But the physical surroundings aren’t the scariest thing.

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Have you ever had a conversation about happiness with a child? From my experience, what brings children happiness is entirely uncomplicated. Their unsullied spirits value experiences over “stuff,” unless we have taught them otherwise. They relish simplicity. Think about the moments of happiness that they keep reminding you about or the perfect days of which they dream; there is an innocence and a purity in their happiness, right? It’s so important to foster this simple happiness and, as adults, it’s invaluable to take their lead.

Part I

Q: Please tell me about your happiest memory.
A: My happiest memory is the first time of going to the Level 3 class [swimming] with my teacher Miss M.B. She’s now not teaching me, but that was my happiest, my favorite memory. I loved it so much.

Q: Why was it so happy?
A: It was the first time learning how to do stuff in Level 3.

Q: What kind of stuff?
A: We did elementary backstroke and just [regular] backstroke. It was my first time doing sidestroke, elementary backstroke, and breaststroke with my feet in frog kick. It’s just such a happy thought. When I remember it, my heart is bursting with happiness. I really like it when that happens when I’m thinking about it. I think about it often when I think about other things.

Q: Would you say that you love swimming?
A: I love being in the water. I love it very much, as much as I can.

Q: What is your favorite part of swimming??
A: I just like doing all the strokes even made up strokes, like upside-down stroke.

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1999 as in the year or the number of boxes? Yes and yes. Both.

In our Mission to Minimize our possessions, one of our most arduous household tasks was to go through the dozens of storage boxes in our garage which haven’t been opened in years (literally, we had been hoarding some since 1999). In these boxes, we found a ridiculous amount of stuff. Boxes that we previously deemed to keep “forever until the end of time” caused us, now, to seriously question our adolescent judgement. Our garage was absolutely full of containers housing too many “sentimental” objects to number, too many things that we will never use, and taking up entirely too much space.

Trust me, I’m a complete sucker for sentiment, but some of the things we found were knickknacks for which we couldn’t even remember the source. A bunch of pennies strewn about a box classified as “important to keep” really could be put to better use in the kids’ piggy banks. (Were these, perhaps, magic pennies?). Apologies to whoever it was that gave us a rainbow terra cotta elephant plate a decade ago which didn’t make the cut. Thank you for the wishes that accompanied said plate. The good news is that the plate will soon find its way into the hands of its rightful owner who is looking for just such a purchase at Goodwill. (And so will the hundreds, if not thousands, of miscellaneous items that made their way to the Goodwill Express near us. I’m actually embarrassed at this point at the frequency of our visits to the donation center. I always imagine the employees rolling their eyes when they see our car – I know, it’s ridiculously egotistical to think they remember us so well. The poor souls probably just remember our crap. [For the record, we’re aware the Goodwill is not the most socially conscious enterprise of its kind, but when you have an intense need to purge your possessions immediately, we convince ourselves that the lavish car driven by the CEO matters less than someone walking into the store and being able to excitedly purchase a $50 doodad for $2.]).

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Insanity. Absolute insanity. Every day. I can’t fathom how we lived before with every toy housed in the open family room space. Sure, there were bins for organization. The musical instruments here, the blocks there, stuffed animals over here. Everything was in reach. Everything was on the floor. It took about 30 minutes every night to put all this stuff in order. At the end of the day, every single toy in the house was strewn about the room. Yes, yes, we tried to abide by the “put this away first before you get a new toy out.” Lets just say that it wasn’t hugely successful. It was maddening.

We decided to minimize. Instead of keeping 8 bins of toys in accessible cabinets, we would only leave 2 bins out containing assorted objects. It was definitely a step in the right direction, but how was it that at the end of the day, there were toys still all over the floor despite the fact that they had only been played with for a grand total of 5 minutes collectively? It was still too much. Somehow, even this reduction wasn’t enough.

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There was really no precipice. All of a sudden, the contents of our house just went from being desirable to being an absolute nuisance. Up until a couple of years ago, our familial mentality was basically, “Yes, we’ll take these bizilbigs, blumtoopas, and wums. We might need them someday.” We stored these random objects in an assortment of boxes, which until very recently were filled to capacity. It may have been the arrival of our second child a year and a half ago that spawned this need to purge our possessions. Adding one little person to our living space may have been the breaking point in not being able to functionally fit in our space.

I liken humans to an organic substance that grows to fit into absolutely any volume. No matter what size your space is, you will grow into it. If you take a family of four living comfortably in a 1,000 sq. foot house and transplant the same people into a 2,500 sq. foot house, there is little doubt that those same four people will magically inhabit the entirety of the larger house to the same capacity as they had their smaller dwelling. We do have friends and family that are able to maintain an amazing amount of order in their homes regardless of square footage. Their beautiful living rooms are always immaculate and airy. I have an aunt whose house has not changed in literally decades. Every tea cup can be found in the exact spot in which it was housed circa 1976. Bless your pristine organization techniques and being able to maintain such structure. We, on the other hand, are the people that return from vacation and walk around a still-packed suitcase for a month before realizing that we’re missing a shoe. Even if we are getting a bit better about this, maintaining our 1,000 sq. feet of living space is really the maximum of our capabilities.

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Let’s just face it, as much as it pains me to say this, unless that puffy-sleeved pirate shirt makes you feel fabulous, you probably won’t wear it. The same goes for all the other clothing you’re hoarding. I venture to say that this is true for most people. I know for certain that it’s the case for me. When I open my closet, each article of clothing gives me a certain feeling. If it gives me an uncomfortable feeling just looking at it, I’ll never wear it.

There are select items which I reach for most because they fit perfectly and make me feel happy when I wear them. These pieces have no “tight in awkward places,” “should be worn very carefully,” “do not sit or bend in an awkward angle,” “requires special accessory amendment,” “do not wear while attempting to chase a toddler” moments. I simply know that when I wear anything in this category, I will be comfortable and happy and I won’t be concerned about some kind of unfortunate wardrobe malfunction.

Conversely, there are (or were) things in my closet that made me grimace every time I came across them – and that’s before even putting these things on. When I looked at these objects, I was reminded of tight sleeves, pull-inducing waistline, too much transparency, etc. In short – these articles of clothing just didn’t make me feel good. Here is what I have come to realize: if I feel this way just by looking at this stuff, there is about a 1% chance that it will end up on my body and an even slimmer chance that if it ends up on me, that I will leave the house wearing that particular item. So why then are these things living in my closet? Why are they compromising the airiness of my wardrobe? Why are they mocking me with their high maintenance demands on a daily basis?

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Next week, we will be celebrating our oldest kid’s birthday. Our magnificent dog Maximus is turning 11 years old. As part of his birthday festivities, I thought that it would be very appropriate to reflect on a few of the ever-so-many lessons on happiness which Max has taught us so far.

Proper greetings are important. You should always make sure that your friends know just how excited you are to see them. Greet your loved ones wholeheartedly. Smile with abandon. Tell them just how much their presence means to you. (You can skip the licking profusely part, that may be overkill).

Persistence is key. Never give up on your dreams. It doesn’t matter if these are bold conquests to climb mountainous peaks or simply staring down your opponent, ahem, or pal, into sharing a piece of that turkey sandwich.

There is never an amount too small to share. Seriously, just share that sandwich already. Even if it’s the last crumb, it’s the thought that counts. It’s not just about food of course, shared experiences always seem bring more enjoyment and their memories last longer when a friend is by your side.

A walk is always exciting. It doesn’t matter if it’s 5 a.m. or 10 p.m. It doesn’t matter if it’s hot or cold or a deluge of water is falling from the sky (just stay inside if there is lightning, please). A walk will always brighten your spirits.

Always be available if a friend needs a hug. We all know a person who can squeeze you so lovingly that all your worries subside. Be that guy.

Exercise patience as much as possible. If you are no longer able to be patient, simply walk away (eventually the guy grabbing your tail will tire and let go).

It’s always a good time for a nap. Naps are proven to reduce stress. We should all try to take naps frequently. (If only our 6-year-old could follow this advice).

Find excitement in the little things. No one shows as much unbridled enthusiasm as dogs. No wonder they are generally such happy creatures. They find happiness in such simple pleasures: a shared snack, going outside, coming back inside, a squirrel!, a bird!, a walk.

Love unconditionally.

We are nestled on the couch in the dark, my girl and I. The curtains are drawn as we sit down to read in the evening, our book illuminated by a little black book light. I have just come out from cozily putting our wee one to sleep after reading with him. Evening reading time has been consistently my favorite part of the day for the past six years. This is my happy place. There is a sense of other-worldliness in this gentle moment; we are transported not only in story but also in heart. No matter what kind of a day we have had, we are at this tranquil moment, completely at peace. I treasure this time every single night as I snuggle with my babies. This reading rhythm of ours is more than six years in the making. It has grown and evolved along with the kids.

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I often wonder how my children will remember their childhood. What will be prevalent in their core memories? My hope is that they will always remember our family’s simple happiness and the beautiful moments that we shared. My hope is that in a couple of decades they can look back fondly on the years spent in their own nest. And my hope is that you enjoy this beautiful reminiscence of childhood as told by the first guest writer of Simplicity Sprouts. Enjoy. -Irina

I’ve decided to write the following things down because they are the earliest warm moments I can remember, and I don’t want to forget them. They are far away in the past, cozy, peaceful, and safe.

Before the big waves and adventures, there was a unique two-story apartment with steep stairs. We lived there. Our new little family: my father – a young architect, my mother – an even younger engineering student, and me.

There was the balcony with low rails overlooking the beautiful and friendly fountains of Kiev’s main square designed by my father. There was a red kitchen table with three black butterflies that my parents painted to represent the three of us. Our cat Leeza who peed in our shoes. And my crib, which my parents painted white where Leeza once pooped.

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